Roland Maximus was not sure if he knew how to grieve the death of the woman that gave him life. He knew how to fake a smile when people said to him 'I'm sorry, you have my deepest sympathies, it is a pity, sorrows and more perfunctory words that were said to console one who was grieving.
He just didn't know if he was grieving and he was tired of hearing people tell him how sorry they were. What were they sorry for? Had they been responsible for her death?
For two days, he had been unable to consolidate what he was living and this was the third day and he was numb. He could hear a ringing in his ears, the priest was giving a sermon in the royal chapel and despite his mouth moving he could not hear a thing that was said.
He was looking at the large picture of his mother that was encircled in a wreath, sitting on top of her closed casket.
She was smiling!
